


All The Right Places

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Q, M/M, Nipple Piercings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 00:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16419011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: If Q had known his body would be such a subject of fascination for James, he would have opened more of it up to him far, far sooner.Set in the same continuity as "Best Dressed."





	All The Right Places

**Author's Note:**

> I keep trying to write things. I do. Only not a single idea has stuck hard enough for me to devote a lot of time to it, so here I am with this, more porny 00Q because I literally can't get over myself and I have very specific needs. So it goes.
> 
> I'm honestly not sure where else this ship will take me at the time of writing, so have this for now.

Q has stopped wondering if the side table he’s currently perched on has enough structural integrity left to hold him - it hasn’t broken yet, and it’s not the first time he’s landed here.

And not bloody likely to be the last, either.

He has, however, been here long enough now that there is likely to be a mirror image of the wooden top on his arse once he’s finally lifted away from it, and however long it takes to disappear is entirely up to the job James does of fucking him, once he gets around to it.

Christ, Q wants that, but James is perfectly content to keep him here, barely inside the door from their date and completely unable to keep their hands to themselves any longer.

Of course, it’s always like this before James has to go away on assignment. Suits, an elegant restaurant, and then something completely breathtaking and wonderful. In this case, it had been a box at the Royal Opera and its brand new production of  _ Tosca -  _ so beautifully done that Q had cried four times, and the tenor singing Mario had been  _ smoldering -  _ Q’s eyes had been locked on his open-chested costume as much as the rest of the opera itself. James, of course, had managed to pull a few strings and secure him an autograph and a wink that had made Q’s knees weak.

He isn’t normally given over to fawning, but with James working his subtle magic all night, Q’s defenses had been lowered. Add that to the wedding ring glinting silvery black on James’s finger - matching Q’s own - and it had been… a lot to take in. He knows that it shouldn’t be a novelty anymore, to go on a beautiful date with  _ his husband,  _ but being Robert Bedford-Bond has yet to lose any of its newness.

Which is why Q is still letting James ravish him on the side table with absolutely not indication that they’ll be moving to their bed any time soon. James has left a trail of bruises over his neck and what he can get to of Q’s collarbone without actually fully undressing him, and is currently licking his sternum like he’s found some sort of elixir there. Q doesn’t mind, but bloody hell, his cock is ragingly hard in his trousers and there isn’t nearly enough of James’s skin exposed for him to try and touch back.

“James,  _ please. _ ” Please touch me more. Please show yourself to me. Please get me off this fucking table and pound me through the boxspring. Any of the above will do, but Q just needs  _ more.  _

James’s mouth moves down and to the left, pushing Q’s shirt open a little more to expose his nipple. He takes it between his teeth and flicks his tongue over the peak, making Q’s entire body tremble with need. It’s a dirty, mean trick, and Q’s hips lift off the table to thrust against nowhere near enough of James’s body. The only friction he has is his that provided by his now thoroughly precome-soaked briefs, and God knows that’s going to lose its magic in a hurry.

It doesn’t stop James’s assault, simply causing Q to grab a bigger handful of James’s unshed jacket and pull him in even closer, all the while becoming hyper aware of every nerve ending in the left side of his chest. He was always embarrassed by how sensitive his nipples were, inevitably getting turned on by even the slightest of unintentional contact - until James had come crashing into his life and bed and proceeded to show him just how much of an advantage he had.

In the interest of balance, James lets his mouth drift back up to Q’s, kissing him hard and deep for the tenth time since they walked through the door, sucking on Q’s tongue and moaning when Q manages to get a hand between them and grip James’s cock through his pants. It’s knocked away in short order as James moves and lavishes the same attention on his right nipple as he did the left, leaving Q writhing and moaning and utterly wrecked.

All before they’ve even taken their clothes off, and in all seriousness, Q is tired of  _ teasing. _

With an effort, he shoves James back, knocking him into the wall opposite, and pinning his hands to his sides so that Q can return some of the torture he’s been enduring for the last twenty minutes.

“You  _ will  _ fuck me soon, or I swear I’ll make you watch me fuck myself.” Q follows up his threat with a kiss that leaves James’s bottom lip plump and swollen, dragging his teeth across it before leading him to the bedroom and is promptly thrown down on the bed.

_ Finally. _

“And what’s to stop me from thoroughly enjoying your body, darling?” James is at least bother to undress while he taunts Q, so Q does the same and goes as fast as he can to present himself to James, getting up on his knees and presenting his arse to him with the hope it gets James inside him sooner rather than later.

“The fact that I want to get pounded and used like the whore you encourage me to be.” Mouthing off at his husband like that earns him a sharp,  _ hot,  _ smack to his left arse cheek that makes his cock bob, another mark on his body that won’t fade until long after James has jetted off to save the world again.

“So long as you continue to be  _ my  _ whore.” James is finally, gloriously naked, and once done he gets in behind Q and pulls their bodies flush, turning his head for a searing kiss that makes Q feel lightheaded. “You always do want it rough before…”

“You leave? Yes, I do.” To let them both remember for as long as possible the feel of the other’s body, what they will both have to come back to once it’s all done. Q softens the kiss a little and groans when he feels James’s cock slide against his ass, wanting desperately to filled and fucked until he can’t move.

“Then I should get on with it, shouldn’t I?” James says it like it’s completely his decision, but in the interest of getting his cock in his arse sooner, Q lets it go and bends forward, spreading himself as James bites at his neck and rubs lube over his hole. It still isn’t enough, but it’s a  _ hell  _ of a lot better than before, feeling those strong, warm fingers promising him the time of his life. James’s wedding ring keeps bumping him too, and Q knows for a fact that’s a conscious choice; nowadays, when he’s home, James takes to opening him up with his left hand, cementing that connection a little more and reminding Q that they  _ are. _

James slides his index finger in and gather Q back up to himself, fucking him slowly, taking time they don’t really have. Q pushes the thought away, feeling his body come even more alive under his husband’s touch. It’s near impossible to not surrender to it, feeling his middle finger slide in so that James’s wedding ring continually bumps against the rim of his hole, making him shiver with delight.

“Need you,” Q manages his back sweating and his hair falling over his face. James presses another claiming kiss to the side of his neck and takes his fingers away, busying himself with slicking up and  _ finally  _ pressing the head of his cock against Q, sliding in so quickly that neither one of them are really braced for the sudden  _ closeness  _ of it.

And like this, where James can take the best advantage of his size (in spite of reputation, James Bond’s cock isn’t really all that big, but absolutely perfect for Q - apparently  _ husband dick  _ is a thing, and James very definitely has it) and hit all the right spots, fucking up and in with short, shallow thrusts that hit Q’s prostate every time. He lets his head fall back against James’s shoulder, his hands braced against James’s thighs as he’s filled up.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Q growls, reaching for his cock to try and enhance all the incredible things James is setting off inside his body. 

James pins his arms and bites at his neck, whispering “on my cock, Robert, nothing more.”

Christ, he really  _ is  _ going to die tonight, isn’t he?

James keeps fucking him - and then reaches both hands up towards his chest, fingers splayed wide over it, ignoring his nipples for the moment,  _ almost  _ touching them while he fucks his arse. Q can’t move, entirely at James’s cavalier mercy, his body  _ aching  _ with the need for release. His cock steadily drips precome into the blankets under them, leaving silvery trails stuck to his shaft and balls. James gives him one stroke, only enough to gather some of the slick up and feed it to Q, saltier than normal as it’s coming from somewhere they feels far, far deeper than normal.

Right as Q is about to fellate the hell out of James’s index finger, his right hand goes to his nipple and  _ tugs. _

Q shouts, bucking against empty air before he’s pulled backwards and slammed down onto James’s cock.

James does it again, acting like he’s discovered something previously unknown to him, getting both hands on Q’s chest and twisting, pulling, fucking Q like it’s their last night on earth and wringing every moaning, begging sound he can from Q’s mouth. Q can feel himself being hardwired, this over-sensitive triangle burning between the twin points of his nipples and prostate, legs shaking and losing their feeling from being spread open and overwhelmed.

“Like this Q, come like this.” James’s voice is raspy and barely controlled, his hips speeding up faster and faster. Q’s right there, his back arched, pressing into James’s touch and yes, he’s right there, just needing a little  _ more,  _ quicker, harder-

James bites his shoulder and Q’s release shoots all over the bed, completely hands free and lasting forever, his body too fucking hot and tight. His chest hurts, his ass hurts, everything hurts and  _ burns  _ but it’s so fucking good, the pain replaced by sweet, blissful pleasure, crying out and letting his head drop forward with exhaustion the moment he feels James still and go slack behind him.

They topple sideways, both panting and sweating in a tangled mess of lube-streaked happiness. Q is still plastered to James’s front, come leaking from his ass and cock. Distantly, he can see how far he shot over on the other side of the comforter, darkening and staining in the low light coming from the lamp.

And yet, James still keeps playing with his chest, idly rubbing over Q’s nipples and not quite letting Q drift off. Not that he was in any danger of it happening anyway, what with the trickle of James’s come leaking from his arse.

It’s quickly gone from trying to keep him aroused to a fascination, and Q’s going to have to ask sooner or later.

“If this is your subtle way of asking me to put on something lacy for you to take off of me, all you have to do is use your words.” Q supposes it’s as good a hypothesis as any, except James doesn’t bother to answer right away.

“I was never much one for lace on a man - I’d rather see you as is.” James sounds sleepy, happy even, and Q tucks himself into the warm tone of his voice. “But I have to say, you’ve compelled me to try something.”

Q glances at the bedside clock - they only have about seven hours to go before James leaves, and they  _ do  _ need to get some sleep tonight. “You’re going to have to give me a bit, I’m afraid, I can’t currently feel my legs.”

James chuckles and noses at his hair, which for whatever reason makes Q enjoy the intimacy all the more. “I should have said we already did - but I always wanted to see if I could make you come just from that.”

“My nipples?”

He takes James’s answering kiss to mean yes, absolutely.

That’s really rather sexy, now that Q thinks about it.

“And it was mindblowing, was it not?” James rolls them so that Q is on his side and he can look down at James, propped up on his elbow. Q makes lazy patterns over James’s chest and stomach, breath hitching at all of this gloriously beautiful man spread out next to him.

No, that won’t get old, either.

“I… yes, it was, and yes, I want to do it again.”

James gets an enigmatic look on his face, and Q knows better than to try and suss out what it means at the moment. “Really?”

“I’m always open to new avenues of pleasure, James, you know that.”

Finding another hotspot that Q had only thought of before as a stop on the road of foreplay makes his mind start racing, presenting him with a million different scenarios that focus solely on James touching him above his stomach.

And to think, James is about to leave on a four month assignment that means it’s going to be a while before they get the chance.

“I do - and it’s something I want to explore more.” James leans up and kisses him again, stoking the fire of arousal that hadn’t quite managed to burn out yet. “How long have I got?”

“Six hours and fifty five minutes.”

“Let’s make the most of it then, shall we?”

Getting rolled over and fucked a second time, for Q at least, is just going to make him miss James all the more.

But it  _ does  _ end up being one hell of a send off.


End file.
